Dedicated
by jemisard
Summary: Jonathan Mare, renowned song writer, is dead and his bird, purchased from Count D, missing. Leon hears the story of the singer and his precious songbird. Violence, sexual themes, rating precautionary


**Dedicate**

_"Show him to no one. Feed him on seafood, fish and vegetables. Thirdly, never sing to him. Music, recordings, all of that will be fine. But you must never sing to him. Please, sign here._"

Leon Orcot looked about pet shop and sighed, taking the cup of tea from D's fingers. "D..."

"I know, Detective. You wish to talk about Jonathan Mare." The Asian smiled softly and sat on the couch, demurely crossing his legs. "Because of the circumstances of his death."

Leon almost spat his tea, dropped the cup to the rug and pointed an accusing finger at D. "I knew it! You sold him one of your dodgy critters and it killed him! I'm taking you- get off me, freaky little goat!"

D tutted and picked up the cup, examining it for cracks. Leon continued to try to shake Totetsu off his leg.

"Well, I don't think it's broken. Really, Detective, I wish you were more careful with my teacups. This is a set from my great grandfather, it has great sentimental value." He neatly mopped up the mess and poured Leon another cup, finally seating himself and patting his lap. "Come here, Tet-chan. Stop mauling the good officer."

Totetsu released Leon and retreated to the safety of D's lap. Leon cursed a few more times before sitting down, glaring at D over the table. "Fine, how did you know how he died?"

D smiled and scratched behind one of the goat's horns. "The newspaper said that the police would not release any details, which means he died in a manner which may embarrass his family or was too brutal to describe. And you only ever come around here to discuss work and my pets, so I assume you have come to discuss Mr Mare." He smiled, as smug a man who was never smug could be.

Leon sat in silence for a few moments. "Did you sell him a pet, D?"

"Yes. I did. Four months ago." D picked up a strawberry and popped it into his mouth. "A song bird."

Leon narrowed his gaze. "Song bird. What sort of song bird?"

"A Greek Scyllan Siren. Lovely song." D sighed wistfully. "Was he still there when you arrived?"

"There was no bird cage, D. No bird, no cage, nothing to suggest he had a pet." The blonde put down the cup. "Why?"

"He's very valuable, Detective. Very rare and difficult to care for." A soft sigh. "Hopefully he will find his way back here." He shook his head, black hair falling over his eyes. "Anyway, how may I help you with your case?"

"You're a really annoying man, D." Leon mumbled, mostly to himself. Totetsu growled but settled under D's stroking fingers. "He was mauled. With claws. And... something that may resemble a giant bird's beak." He leant forwards. "Start talking, D."

Another soft sigh. "All right. But you are not going to like what I have to say. Let me start by saying that he signed a contract and had he kept to the conditions of the contract, nothing could have gone wrong."

Mr Jonathan Mare was famous, rich, handsome and talented, which did not begin to explain what he was doing in a small pet shop in Chinatown on a Saturday morning.

D greeted him, opening his arms to encompass the store. "We have a pet for everyone in this shop, Mr Mare. What are you looking for?"

Jonathan pushed his sunglasses onto his head. "A bird. A bird that sings sweeter than a choir boy." He looked about, eyes grazing over a display of canaries. "Not that sort of song. Something...." he grabbed at the air, as though it would yield him answers. "Something more."

D nodded slowly. "I see, sir. Few birds have a sweeter song than the canary. Of course, there is a rare bird called the Strezlitzia but I could not get hold of one of those right now..." He shook hid head slightly. "Might I ask why a song bird, sir?"

"I love music." The pale grey eyes looked away. "I love the sound, the feeling. It is everything to me. It's why I write music, why I perform. I need something to make the song I can feel in me." He laughed slightly. "That sounds so ridiculous, but its how I feel."

The Chinese man blinked and nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I do understand, Mr Mare." He walked towards the back of the shop. "Please, follow me. I think we may have the perfect pet for you."

The back room was dark, smoky, the heady smell of incense lacing the air. D walked in and lit a small lantern, beckoning Jonathan in.

The doors swung shut behind them.

Jonathan looked about, hearing the rustling of feathers. D smiled at him and gestured to the chair that he would have sworn was not there before.

He looked no older than sixteen, perched on the back of the chair like he owned the place. His dark hair tumbled about his shoulders, his nose straight, his lean body wearing more jewellery than actual cloth.

Jonathan stared. "You can't seriously mean to sell me a child!"

"Child? Mr Mare, this is no child. He is a full grown specimen." D gestured him closer. "See. This is no child."

He looked closer and gasped.

Soft feathers traced where a hairline should be, long curving talons in place of small, neat nails on both hands and feet. Most incredible, though, was the eyes. Bright amber eyes, like a hawk or eagle's, watching him with sharp pride.

Jonathan stared, numb and shocked. "What..."

"He is a Greek Scyllan Siren. A rare specimen, as males are outnumbered by females, nearly twenty to one." D stroked the feathers softly, running down into the brown hair. "The females and males both sing, to reinforce bonding. Undoubtedly you have heard of the females."

The boy looked to D and blinked before looking to Jonathan. Behind him, there was more rustling. Jonathan wanted to step away. "Is he... he looks angry."

D cocked his head. "No, he's just a little unsure about strangers." he petted the boy again. "Come over here and stroke him. He won't bite."

Timidly, Jonathan held out his hand and slowly pushed his fingers along the surface of the feathers. D's hand withdrew, leaving Jonathan to pet the bird.

The boy cooed slightly and tilted his head. The blonde grinned and rubbed the new spot. "You prefer there, huh?"

D smiled and watched the pair. "I think he likes you, Mr Mare. Will you be taking him?"

Jonathan paused in his administrations and looked to D. "Does he sing?"

"Oh yes. A beautiful song. I can deliver him tonight and you shall hear him soon after. He will not sing in this room, he knows it is not his home. he will only sing once he has a home." He nodded slightly. "Of course, there is a contract for you to sign out in the foyer, if you wish for me to deliver him."

The singer smiled faintly as his fingers were delicately nibbled by brilliant white teeth and he resumed scratching. "I... yes. Deliver him to my house tonight. Does he have any special needs? I have an aviary, but I doubt he'd fit."

"He will live inside your house. Very neat creatures, but highly domestic. He will want to be surrounded by things that smell like you." D gestured back towards the door. "Shall we deal with the contract then?"

"Yes. The contract."

'Show him to no one. Feed him on seafood, fish and vegetables, nothing else. Thirdly, never sing to him. Music, recordings, all of that will be fine. But you must never sing to him. Please, sign here.'

Jonathan signed and lay down the pen. "Cooked or raw seafood?"

"Either. He isn't fussy. He may drink water or vegetable juice. Fruit as a treat, not a diet, aside from tomatoes." D signed and checked the form. "Here is your copy, sir. I shall deliver him to your home tonight. Shall we say six?"

"Yes, six is fine." Jonathan tried to explain his suddenly dry mouth. "And I mustn't sing to him?"

"No. Not in person. Recordings of your voice are all right." D smiled and turned to the girl who had just walked in. "Please, do excuse me. May I help you, miss?"

Jonathan stood there for a few moments before leaving.

Jonathan had paced the living room a hundred times before he heard the car pull up out the front of his house. He hurried to the door and opened it before D knocked, one pale hand raised to the wood. "Count D."

"Just D, please. My grandfather is the Count." He smiled and stepped in at Jonathan's behest, leading the shrouded figure behind him. "You should keep him indoors, unless you are with him. He probably wouldn't be a problem, but he is a predator, and he does have predator instincts when he sees smaller birds. Your presence will stop him giving chase." D walked into the living room and smiled happily. "This will be perfect."

Jonathan followed, watching the small figure of his new pet as he walked in. His head tilted about in sharp, jerky little movements as he took in the room with its high ceiling and padded furniture.

"You may take off his hood and cloak."

The voice was almost hypnotic. The singer nodded and walked over, gently undoing the clasp and pulling off the cloth.

Almost instantly, the siren's wings shot out to full length, beautiful glossy brown and black wings, each as long as the boy was tall. He looked about again, seeming panicky until he focused in on Jonathan's wonder filled face.

His hands shot out to grab his owner's, pulling them to his head and butting into them with a small coo. His fingers seemed to move on their accord, scratching softly.

"When will he sing?"

"Soon." D promised. "Not tonight. Probably tomorrow tonight." He pulled out some incense stick and handed them to Jonathan. "These will help settle him in. Burn one three times a day until he first sings. If you have no luck before the incense runs out, call me." He inclined his head. "Now I shall leave you two to get acquainted. Good evening, Mr Mare."

D's departure was barely noticed. Jonathan lay aside the incense and took the boy's hands into his, pulling him further into the room. "Do you like your new home?"

There was sharp intelligence behind those alien eyes, like he understood what Jonathan was saying to him. He blinked and cocked his head and looked about the room again, eyes lingering on the door that led into the rest of the house.

"You want to explore? All right, come on then." He led him out and up the stairs to the upper levels. "This is your room."

The spare room had been converted. The four poster bed remained, piled with soft pillows and blankets. The boy stepped in and looked about, circling the bed suspiciously.

"I wonder what your name is... though I guess that's up to me, huh." He racked his brains for a suitable name. "How about... no.... or.... hmm, maybe not." He looked back to where the boy was tapping his talons on the window.

"Calix." Jonathan smiled as the name came to him. "Your name is Calix."

Calix looked back and chirped shortly, rushing back over to his owner and trying to push past him, back out into the hall. Jonathan let him, laughing as he chased the whistling boy down the hall. "Where are you off to, Calix? Calix!"

Calix skidded to a halt outside the master bedroom, sniffing at the door. Jonathan slowed next to him, opening the door. "You want to go in here?"

The moment the door was open, the brunette pushed past, into the bedroom. He bee lined for the bed, leaping onto the mattress and bouncing to a stop.

The blonde was somewhat amused. "And what are you doing there?"

Calix cooed and turned in a circle, his wings rustling. He settled down, wriggling slightly to make himself comfortable, folding his wings about him like a nesting bird.

He was a bird, Jonathan thought. He had to remember that. No matter what he looked like or how intelligent he seemed, he was a bird.

Calix cooed again and rolled about, nuzzling the pillows and messing up the blankets. The bracelets on his wrists and ankles jingled with the movement, the high necklace chimed as the tiny beads struck one another in his movements. Jonathan grinned and sat down on the bed, letting Calix butt his head under his hand again. "I guess you want to sleep in here. D did say that you would want to be surrounded by my scent... maybe we could move the cushions from the other room in here at least."

Calix blinked at him, his eyes shutting once again as the fingers went back to stroking.

He had stayed home to look after him the next day, calling in sick to the studio. A breakfast of chopped vegetables had managed to tide him until lunch, when a proper roast fish was arranged for the boy. He ate delicately, claws picking apart the flesh and delicately popping each piece into his mouth and sighing happily.

Now, five stick of incense later, Jonathan and Calix sat in the living room, the stick burning between them, one of Jonathan's pillows clutched on Calix's lap.

They sat in silence, Calix's wings rustling loudly in the quiet of the room

Jonathan finally sighed and leant back. "Calix. Won't you sing for me?" He leant forwards and took the pillow away, holding his hands. "Please? Just one song, Calix?"

Calix blinked and looked about. Jonathan wanted to bang his head on the table.

Instead, he let his head hang. Maybe, Calix just wasn't meant to be his pet. Maybe he wasn't happy here. D had said he would only sing once he was comfortable with his home."

Then, then he felt like his heart was bursting from joy, notes pouring through him, sweet sounds that plucked in his chest and vibrated through his body. He looked up, and he was crying and he didn't know why.

Calix continued to sing, his voice on a hundred notes at once, and each of them was perfect. He shuffled closer to Jonathan, and his voice dropped, the joy leaving his song.

He sang everything Jonathan felt in his head and heart, all the things he had wanted to express with his music but never could get quite right.

And then, it was over, the last notes drifting away. Jonathan blinked and shook his head, surprised to find he had Calix in his arms, curled up on his lap, staring at him expectantly. The sunlight was gone and total darkness dominated the room, even the tiny glow of the incense long gone.

Jonathan gently stroked the curls, pulling Calix's head to his shoulder. It fit perfectly, nestled in under his chin, like he was made to fit.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish I could give you what you just gave me, but even if I had the ability, I can't. D said I mustn't sing to you, Calix."

Calix blinked, butted his head under the blonde chin and trilled gently, leaning back to stare him in the eye again.

"I can't, Calix." He pulled him back so he didn't have to see his eyes. "I'll play you some recordings, okay? Tomorrow." He stood up, surprised at the tiny weight of the boy in his arms.

Calix chirped and cuddled closer, letting Jonathan carry him to the bedroom.

There was no question as to where Calix would be sleeping.

The next day, Jonathan set the TV to the music channel when he went out, so that Calix would have something to listen to. He left fish and meat out for him, promised to pick up some strawberries to say sorry for last night and headed out.

He thought about him all day, heard that haunting tune echoing in his mind. He wrote song after song, trying to capture the notes he heard only twelve hours earlier, but they slipped through his fingers as he scribbled on the paper.

He threw away what he had done and went home, desperate to hear Calix again, to feel that song in his chest again.

He could hear romantic songs coming from the television as he unlocked and came in. he peered into the living room, saw Calix was sitting in front of the TV still, swaying back and forth in time to the music.

"Calix?" he forced the slightly sing song tone from his voice. "Have a good day?"

The reaction was instantaneous. The boy was half swooping across the room, colliding into Jonathan and snuggling into his chest with happy trills and coos. Jonathan staggered under the force, laughing as he righted both of them. "Glad to see me, then?"

He cuddled the boy in his arms, petted along his wings and shoulders, along the gold decorations over his arms. "You behave today?"

The brunette blinked and dropped to his knees, grabbing the backpack Jonathan carried and sniffing around it. His claws started to pick at the zip, trying to get inside.

"Hey, quit it." He grabbed the bag back and held it up, out of reach. "Oh, you're after the strawberries, hey? You can have those after dinner. Real food first and only one or two. D said not to make them a diet, just a treat."

Calix bobbed his head, eyes latched on the bag.

He laughed. "All right, I get the idea. I'm hungry, let's go eat."

Dinner was a roast, since they could both eat that, and salad. Calix, despite his size, did not eat a large amount, preferring to pick choice pieces from both their plates and then sit staring at Jonathan while he finished.

Finally, Jonathan stacked the dishwasher and took out two strawberries from the punnet, removing the leaves and the core, splitting it in half and holding out half to Calix.

The boy snapped it between his teeth, chewing briefly and swallowing before looking back to Jonathan's hand. He blinked and trilled.

Carefully, the blonde held out the other half. Calix watched and bent in, gently taking it between his lips, skin nearly grazing skin. He chewed it slowly this time, eyes closed as though to savour the taste.

Unbidden, Jonathan found himself cutting up the next one and repeating the gesture.

Calix continued to be hand fed, eyes locked on Jonathan's pale grey ones. Finally, his tongue swiped over the fingers, licking away the last of the juice.

Then, he smiled and started to sing.

Time stopped. The world existed only in the notes that Calix's voice produced, played with and carelessly tossed into the most perfect song ever created. Everything in Jonathan sang, he felt like he was flying on the sound alone.

The most enchanting, beguiling song ever made. And he alone heard it. He made Calix sing those notes. Calix sang because he wanted to sing to Jonathan and no one would ever know. This was all his.

And then, reality crashed back in. He fell to his knees, pulling Calix with him, the boy crushed against his chest in a desperate need to bring him close.

Calix chirped and butted the blonde gently, nuzzling affectionately.

The expectation was unmistakable.

"I can't, Calix. I'm sorry." He inhaled the soft scent of the boy's hair.

"I wish I could. I wish I could. I can't. I promised. I wish you understood." His face was already wet with tears anyway. "I want to."

Each day a wonder and a fight for Jonathan

Every day he would wake with Calix nestled next to him, soft feathered wings spread over his body. Every day he would go to work after feeding the boy, leaving him with recordings and CD's and anything else that might make him happy.

Every night, Calix would sing his song, heart breaking and joyful, light and dark, and ever day he would finish after hours of mind numbingly beautiful notes and wait, expectantly, to hear Jonathan sing back to him.

Jonathan tried playing him recordings. But Calix would stare blankly at the speaker, and then he'd turn back to Jonathan and stare with wide and happy and expectant eyes.

He couldn't explain it. Calix didn't understand why Jonathan wouldn't sing to him. He would look so heart broken for a while, nuzzling and cuddling into Jonathan as though to coax a few notes from him.

And, eventually, Jonathan began to wonder why he couldn't sing to his beloved pet. The boy who had inspired a hundred songs in a mere four months, none of which could live up to the pure notes of his beloved's voice.

He knew D had told him not to. He knew it. But D didn't have to watch Calix's mournful gaze when the singer would not sing to him. D had never heard the song Calix sang.

Four months had passed. Four months where all Jonathan could desire was to make Calix as happy as the little siren had made him. He had to make him happy. It felt like the only purpose in his life.

They lay in bed, Jonathan gently stroking the bare flesh between the sprawled wings. Calix was softly singing, almost hypnotically, slow and lazy notes, sprawled as he was between the blonde's legs.

Slowly, Calix's voice started to drift off, his eyes falling heavy. He had been singing for nearly six hours now, only sleep was going to stop him.

Almost unbidden, Jonathan started to hum the counter point to the tune. Calix perked slightly, his voice growing remotely stronger.

Jonathan propped himself up on his elbows and let the first, tentative notes escape from his lips.

Calix's voice rose again, almost teasing, almost challenging, and for the first time, Jonathan felt he was singing the perfect song, his voice rising with Calix's.

It was beyond any high he had ever known. The world meant nothing, just these perfect, perfect notes they made, the soft skin and feathers against his own bare flesh, and it was a haze of pleasure and the perfect song echoing in his ears, over and over again.

He never even felt the razor sharp talons sink into his flesh.

D sipped at his tea. "He broke the contract, Detective. I sold him an exotic pet that is harmless if handled correctly. He failed to do so."

Leon stared. "You can't be serious. He was murdered by a giant bird?"

D said nothing, just took a chocolate from the box and popped it between his lips.

"What was it? A fit of rage? Competition? Why did he kill him after singing?" Leon threw up his arms, absently scratching a cat behind the ear. "Enlighten this poor Neanderthal."

"Please don't call yourself that, it is derogatory." D sighed. "Siren males are rare compared to females because the female only mates the once before dying. It is the male, not the female, which raises the clutch of eggs produced by mating." The Asian man looked down. "I can only imagine how it has affected poor Calix, to search for the eggs that he could not find. That is why he did it. He did it for love. He did it to find his children."

"I don't understand, D. You're confusing me."

"The song. The song is the female's acceptance. The females sing to attract a male. Then, the male will serenade the female until she responds, at which point they mate, her eggs; readied by his serenading; are fertilized and he kills her to take the eggs and raise them." D sighed. "I can only hope Calix is all right. He is a very precious creature."

"He killed a man!" Leon slumped back. "Why do I bother? That bird means more to you than a human life... um... what do you mean, mate?"

"Do not think about it, Detective. You will only distress yourself." D stood and straightened his cheongsam. "It is closing time. I must ask you to leave. Unless, of course, you would like to make this an after hours visit?"

"No." Leon put down his teacup and stood up. "I'm not going to nail you on this one." He stood up. "Just tell me, why he'd let him kill him?"

D smiled sadly, glimpsing a fluttering of wings at the back window, behind Leon, and the echo of a mournful call reached their ears. "Because, that is the song of the siren. Once you have heard it, nothing else matters. Not even death."


End file.
